The Original Human Torch in…

STARTING ALL OVER AGAIN

By Derrick Ferguson

Jim Hammond stood on the roof of the world famous Stratosphere Hotel and Casino, his base of operations in Las Vegas. Dressed in his red bodysuit with the yellow cuffs and belt, he looked both heroic and imposing.

He wished he felt as heroic and as imposing as he looked. Cognitionanoid Adrenalazer fluid pumped through his Cardial Biomotor as he looked out over the glittering wonderland that was Las Vegas. Even during the daytime it was a magnificent sight. He looked over the edge of the roof. It was a long, long way down.

Jim Hammond took in the deepest breath of his life and then jumped out into the air. He arced slowly, picking up speed as he plummeted toward the streets far below.

“FLAME ON!”

Orange-red flames exploded from Jim Hammond’s body, sheathing him in crackling, roaring ripples of flame and just like that he was once more the incomparable, the originalHUMAN TORCH!

Jim soared over the city, leaving a trail of fire ribboning in his wake and allowed the huge goofy grin to spread across his face. He couldn’t help it. It had been a month since his final, nightmarish fight against The Hulk in Seattle and it had taken that long for his full power to return. This was the first time since then he had been able to flame on. So savage, so incredible was the sheer power of The Hulk that The Human Torch had totally drained his entire power reserves after only a scant thirty minutes of combat against the emerald giant.

Still, he had survived going toe-to-toe against The Hulk and there weren’t many who could brag about doing that. Not that The Torch felt like bragging. The devastation The Hulk had unleashed upon Seattle had haunted him ever since that terrible day. And the bitterness of what had happened after that was even worse.

The Human Torch had requested…no, demanded to speak with The President of The United States and that hadn’t gone exactly as planned…

Three Weeks Ago…

“The President will see you now, Mr. Hammond.” The President’s secretary smiled at him from behind her desk.

Jim stood up, dressed in a conservative blue business suit, crisp white shirt and red tie. He walked on into The Oval Office to be met by The President and his Chief of Staff.

“Mr. Hammond, I can’t tell you what an honor it is to meet a patriot such as yourself who has given so much in the service and defense of his country. Please, please, be seated. Make yourself comfortable.” He turned to his Chief of Staff. “Let us have the office, okay, Leo?”

“I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

The President waited until the door closed before speaking again. “Is there anything you want? Coffee, tea?”

“Your secretary was good enough to provide me with some coffee while I waited, Mr. President. I’m fine.”

“I apologize for keeping you waiting. Naturally a man of your prominence should have immediate access to me anytime you wish.” The President sighed. “But I was on the phone with Australia. They, along with the rest of the world are demanding to know why we haven’t captured or destroyed The Hulk yet. They’re petrified he’s going to go overseas and destroy one of their cities.”

“As well they should be, Mr. President. It is my opinion that the number one priority of every military, government sanctioned superhero and intelligence resource should be the capture or elimination of The Hulk. There can be no other task as important.”

“I assure you, Mr. Hammond, we’ve been hunting for The Hulk diligently, day and night without stop.”

“Then why hasn’t he been found? It’s inconceivable to me that Banner can successfully hide after the Seattle attack.”

The President crossed his legs carefully and brushed a speck off his knee. “Jim…may I call you Jim?”

“Certainly, sir.”

The President’s voice lowered, creating an air of intimacy. It was a vocal trick he’d learned early on in his political career. “You can be sure that every effort is being made to find Bruce Banner and bring him to justice for what he’s done. I can tell you…and this is totally and strictly off the record, mind you…that The United States has kicked in a sizeable amount toward a bounty that has been placed on The Hulk’s head by the governments of the world. It’s one billion dollars.”

“With all due respect, sir…that’s just not good enough.”

The President blinked. “Beg pardon?”

“What Banner did was an atrocity committed on American soil and against American citizens. He should be caught and or eliminated by Americans.”

The President sighed. “Does it really matter, Jim? As long as it’s done?”

“Yes. Yes, it does, sir. And you should know why.” Abruptly Jim stood up. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time, Mr. President. I’ll use my resources to find and bring in The Hulk.”

“No.”

Now it was Jim’s turn to blink and say, “Beg pardon?”

“You had your turn at The Hulk, Jim. More than once by your own reports. He beat you decidedly every time. What makes you think another time would be any different?”

“So you’re suggesting that I simply walk away and forget about Seattle?”

“What I am suggesting is that right now the American people cannot afford to have a national hero of your stature killed in battle with The Hulk. We need you alive and active, Jim. The Hulk is going to be dealt with, believe me. Just not by you.”

In the many years since he had been activated, Jim had acquired many human traits. One in particular served him well on many occasions: simply keeping silent. Now, if The President wished to take his silence as acquiescence, well…that was on The President. After all, Jim had never said he would stop looking for The Hulk and as long as The President didn’t make a Presidential Order, Jim couldn’t be blamed for continuing the hunt, now could he?

“Is there anything else?”

“Yes. There’s an officer in the United States Army. Lt. Colonel Felton Hardbottle. The man was in command of The Hulkbusters at the time of the Seattle attack.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve read the reports.”

“The man is an alcoholic sociopath who is as much responsible for the deaths and destruction at Seattle as is The Hulk. He is a disgraceful human being who dishonors the uniform of The United States Army. The man should be court-martialed and thrown into a federal prison to rot for the rest of his miserable life.”

“Done.”

Jim blinked again. He didn’t think it would have been that easy. “Just like that? I was given to believe that Hardbottle was still of some use to the government.”

“My administration has no use for men like Hardbottle. He is being held in a secure facility in Colorado. A court-martial will be forthcoming.”

“I’m glad to hear that, sir.”

The President smiled. He learned more than a few tricks himself since taking office and one of them was lying with a perfectly straight face. Hardbottle was hardly locked up. In fact, he was now in at a training facility in California, working hard on what was known as The Five Man Army Project. But there was no need for Jim to know that. The Five Man Army was something The President damn well intended to keep the superhero community in the dark about as long as possible.

“Was there anything else, Jim?”

“No, Mr. President. I think that’s all for now.”

The President stood up and shook hands with him. “I want to tell you that your bringing this directly to me is appreciated. You’ve been a friend to The White House ever since the Roosevelt administration and I want you to feel that you can come in here anytime and see me with any concerns you have.”

“As long as they’re not about The Hulk.”

The President’s voice took on a slightly more formal tone; “There are plans in the works to deal with The Hulk once and for all, Colonel Hammond. If you pursue the Hulk on your own, you will only hinder those plans. I trust I’ve made myself clear?”

He most certainly had. The ‘Colonel Hammond’ was the tip off. The President meant for Jim to understand that this was to be taken as an order from his Commander-In-Chief. And while Jim was on the inactive list, he still was an honorary Colonel in The U.S. Army.

Jim smiled tightly as he replied; “I serve at the pleasure of The President.”

Swooping in great, huge figure-8’s The Human Torch recalled the bitterness he felt that day as he left The White House. The President had been lying about The Hulk and Jim was pretty sure he had lied about Hardbottle as well. But right now he didn’t see much that he could do about either. Once back in Las Vegas he had gotten on the phone and on his computer and used up ten years worth of favors trying to find out where Hardbottle was allegedly being held and what the government was doing about The Hulk.

And he came up with exactly nothing. Never in his entire career as a superhero had he felt so helpless. The Fantastic Four, The Avengers, the West Coast Avengers…supposedly they were all on stand-by, prepared to drop what they were doing and mobilize into one huge unstoppable force whose only task would be to catch The Hulk.

But where the hell was The Hulk? After Seattle, Bruce Banner’s face was the most well-known on Earth. And there was certainly no way to hide a seven foot tall, one thousand pound jade green monster. But ever since Seattle there had been no sighting of either.

And that was just flat out impossible.

Hearing police sirens below, The Human Torch angled his flight to home in on where they were coming from. Good. Maybe some action would get his mind off this problem his brain refused to let go of. A problem that become more tangled and more confusing as time went on.

And his visitor a couple of weeks ago hadn’t made anything any clearer…

Two Weeks Ago…

Jim hung up the phone and rubbed his eyes. Not that his eyes actually were tired but it was just another human characteristic he had acquired over the years and had used in public to appear to be human. So often had he done it and for so many years that he did it even when by himself.

Another useless phone call. One that got no response and got him no closer to either The Hulk or to Hardbottle. Most of his contacts he had called had made it plain that they had been instructed not to talk to Jim about either The Hulk or Hardbottle. And the higher and thicker the stonewall got, the more Jim worried. He was now convinced that Hardbottle was still working for the government, undoubtedly in some kind of Black Ops. Along with Bullet and The Dreadknight. But nobody would talk.

Jim turned around in his chair to look out his office window at the twilight Las Vegas skyline. He honestly didn’t know where he would go from here. Usually his name was more than enough to open any doors that were closed. But in this case, not only were doors being closed, they were being nailed shut, and then welded tight. It was most frustrating. This was a form of combat he was unused to. Maybe-

“Good evening, Mr. Hammond.”

Jim whirled around in his chair to look in amazement at the man sitting in the chair on the opposite side of his desk. He was dressed in a simple black business suit and highly polished black shoes. His red tie and white shirt were so clean it was surreal. His slim hands looked almost feminine, fragile. His thick black hair was slicked back and shone almost as brightly as his shoes. His eyes were the most frightening feature about him. They were completely red. No pupils, no irises, no sclera. Just bright crimson orbs.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?”

The man held up a hand. “I’m not here to fight with you, Mr. Hammond. In fact, I hope to be able to ease your mind about the matters that have recently been troubling you.”

“I won’t ask again: who are you and how did you get in here?”

The crimson-eyed man sighed wearily. “I certainly wish that you people would be more original when I visit. If you must have a name, call me Achan.”

“Did you teleport in here?”

“If that will satisfy you, then yes. Yes I did.”

“You know that I’m The Human Torch. I can fry you where you sit.”

“You can barely spark up the pilot light on an ordinary kitchen stove. You exhausted your power during the Seattle fight. Oh, your power is coming back. But slowly. So your threat is empty. And I am not here to fight with you.”

“Then you should have used the door like anybody else.”

“Ah, but I am not like anybody else.” Achan lifted his other hand, which held a lit cigarette. He inhaled deeply.

Jim kept his seat. Maybe here, at last he’d get some of the answers he’d been looking for. “Say your piece and then get out.”

“Is that a way to treat a guest? You haven’t even offered me a drink.” Achan lifted his other hand which now held a chunky crystal tumbler filled with ice and what looked to Jim like Wild Turkey. “Never mind. I brought my own.”

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“I want to make your life easier.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

“I’m a nice man. Nicer than you might think.”

“Get on with it.”

“You need not keep banging your head against an adamantium wall trying to find Felton Hardbottle. He is beyond you now. He is protected.”

“Protected by whom?”

“You will never know. These are people who have manipulated events long before your creation and will continue to do so for generations to come. And Felton Hardbottle is under their control. For as long as they need him.”

“And then?”

“And then they will dispose of him in the manner he deserves. Oh, make no mistake, Mr. Hammond. These people do not delude themselves about Colonel Hardbottle’s nature. But it is a nature they can direct into acts that will benefit themselves as well as others.”

“That’s simply not good enough for me.”

Achan blew out bluish smoke and shrugged. “Have it your own way. You can continue looking for him if you wish. But you won’t get near him. It is as simple as that.”

“And what about The Hulk?”

“What about him?”

“Is he ‘protected’ as well?”

“My people have no interest in Bruce Banner after what happened at Seattle. But having some insight into these matters, I can safely say that very soon, The Hulk will no longer be a concern of yours.”

“That also is not good enough for me.” Jim stood up. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to detain you. Perhaps a few hours in a S.H.I.E.L.D. containment cell will loosen your tongue.”

“Never happen.” Achan finished his cigarette and flicked the butt into the air, where it disappeared at the top of its arc. “You have to understand that you are not in control. And those who are did not get there without learning everything about everybody that could possible be either a threat or of use to them.”

Jim came around the desk. Amazingly, it was as if a living cloak of shadow fell across the chair Achan sat in. And by the time Jim reached the chair, he was simply gone.

Leaving him even more confused than ever before.

The Human Torch landed behind the police lines and flamed off. A perimeter had been set up, keeping back the public while police cars blocked off both ends of the street.

Jim walked over to an officer with sergeant’s stripes, glanced at his nameplate and said; “Can I be of help, Sergeant Gordon?”

The sergeant pushed up the visor of his helmet. “If The Human Torch can’t help, I don’t know who can!” He pointed at the Eastwood Bank. “We’ve got seven men holed up in there. All heavily armed, with ten hostages. They say if we don’t pull back and let them walk, they’ll kill they hostages.”

Jim nodded. “Give me five minutes. In exactly five minutes, come in through the front door, got it?”

“Got it!”

Jim leaped into the air, shouting “Flame ON!” And once again he was The Human Torch. He flew straight up into the air above the bank, hovering there, directing waves of heat downward. Shortly the temperature inside the bank rose sharply, overcoming the central air conditioning. Water pipes ruptured and burst, showering the bank robbers inside with searing sprays of heated water. Steam obscured their vision, already made blurring by the sweat pouring down their faces.

A couple of them let off bursts of fire from their automatic weapons but only managed to hit their fellow robbers.

The police crashed in through the front door, shouting for the robbers to drop their weapons and hustling the hostages outside, their clothes soaking wet. But they were all alive and well and the robbers taken without injury or loss of life.

The Human Torch landed next to the grinning Sergeant Gordon. “Mr. Hammond, I’d consider it a true honor to shake your hand.”

Jim flamed off and shook Gordon’s hand while the crowds behind the barricades cheered and clapped.

“Mr. Hammond, there were plenty who said that you quit after the fight with The Hulk in Seattle but we never gave up hope here in Vegas. We knew you’d be back when the time was right.”

Jim couldn’t help but return the grin. “Thanks, for that, Sarge. It’s always good to know I’m not letting people down.”

“You could never do that, Mr. Hammond.”

Jim turned away, ran a few steps so as not to catch anybody in the backwash of fire as he flamed on and flew up into the sky, back to his office in the Stratosphere. His power was back and he was now filled with the confidence that he was in the right. He would do everything necessary to find The Hulk and Felton Hardbottle to insure they would pay for what they had done.

The windows of his open swung open, activated by motion sensors at his approach and he flew inside, flaming off just as his feet touched the marble floor. He shook his shoulders, the few remaining flames clinging fading out.

The telephone rang and normally he’d have let the answering machine pick it up, he was in such high spirits he answered it himself. “Jim Hammond speaking.”

The voice on the other end chuckled. “I thought you had a secretary to answer your phone.”

“She’s off for the day. Who’s this?”

“You don’t recognize your ol’ buddy Fred?”

“Fred? Fred Davis? I can’t believe it! How have you been, Fred?”

“Fine, now that I’ve got hold of you. Sorry about Seattle. That must have been hell.”

“It was. But what are you doing these days?”

“More importantly, what are you doing?”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve got two words that are going to change your life.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“You haven’t heard them yet.”

“What are they?”

“Liberty Legion.”

The adventures of Jim Hammond, The Original Human Torch will continue in the pages of THE LIBERTY LEGION!